Without You
by Ezika
Summary: New chapter is up! Contains a couple of minor swear words, but nothing major. Monica has a surprise. Slightly cliched, but hopefully, it will improve as the series goes on.
1. part 1

# Without You (part 1)

The couple danced slowly in the fading light in their apartment. Their bodies moved in time with the music, but in truth, neither of them really heard it, they were too caught up in the moment. He stroked her soft, silky dark hair and sighed gently. This was the happiest he had ever been. He was with her, they were alone together, and this was their moment. And in this moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. He didn't want to break the magic of the moment by speaking, but he had to, he had to tell her the only thought that had been on his mind all day.

"I love you," he whispered. She squeezed him a little tighter.

"I love you too," she whispered back. She snuggled her head into his chest and breathed in his warm, familiar smell. 

"I can't believe we're married," he whispered in awe.

"I know. Its like everything finally fits," she agreed. 

Chandler smiled at her. Monica had put into words exactly what he was feeling; she had a way of doing that. It was one of the endless list of things he loved about her. It was like she could read his mind, and understand the jumble of thoughts and emotions in there better than he could himself. He loved that even when he was all screwed up, as he so often was, she could tell him what he knew himself, but was either afraid to admit, or looking at it in a way so he couldn't see it.

"Wanna go to bed?" he asked, half teasing, but half serious. It would be their first night as a married couple, and although he loved dancing with her, he would much rather be making love to her. Monica grinned up at him.

"After this dance," she promised. Chandler nodded and kissed her softly. "Hey, no cheating," she reprimanded him, gently pushing him away. He laughed, knowing she was only joking, and they resumed their dancing.

When the song finished, Monica broke their embrace and went over to the stereo, which she turned off. Chandler followed her and surprised her by scooping her up in his arms and kissing her. He carried her into their bedroom and laid her gently on the bed. 

Some time later, the two of them lay asleep in each other's arms. Chandler, who had needed his space with every other girlfriend he had ever had, found that he couldn't sleep knowing Monica wasn't with him, or even that she was in bed with him, just on her side of the bed, she had to be touching him, he had to have an arm around her, he had to be able to feel her warm breath on his cheek, or neck or shoulder. He had to know that she would be there when he woke up. It was something that had started in London, when he had been terrified that it was all a dream, and that when he woke up, she would be gone, so that night, he had held her tightly as they slept. And Monica loved his arms around her as she drifted off. It made her feel secure in the knowledge of his love for her, she felt lucky that he was so possessive of her, that he loved her enough to overcome his need for space, and she felt honoured that her presence seemed to help him sleep.

In the morning, Chandler woke up first. He looked over at Monica and thought how peaceful she looked. Her dark hair was spread out around her on the pillow, her arm draped across his chest, her warm body pressed close to his. Chandler tenderly kissed her forehead, and then slid carefully out of their embrace, trying not to disturb her. He pulled on a bathrobe and tiptoed out into the kitchen. He wanted to make her breakfast in bed before they left that afternoon for their honeymoon in Paris. They had been planning to leave right after the wedding, but there had been a problem with the hotel, so they were booked on a flight at three forty that afternoon.

He looked in the fridge and found that there was nothing except an empty can of beer (Joey's, he guessed correctly) and a week old salad that Monica hadn't gotten around to throwing out. It wasn't like her to leave things in the fridge after they'd gone off, but he supposed she'd been too caught up in the wedding plans to think about the contents of the fridge. After dressing quickly in the first clothes he found in a pile in the guestroom, waiting to be put away (he suppose Monica had been to busy with the wedding to get round to it yet), Chandler scribbled a note to her, in case she woke up wondering where he was.

Dear Monica

Gone to get some breakfast things. Stay in bed.

Back soon

Love Chandler

P.S. I love you

The P.S. he added as an afterthought, mainly because he hated leaving her before she was awake, even if it was to do a nice thing for her like making her breakfast in bed. And also because every time one of them left, even if it was just to go across the hall, or down to Central Perk, and they would see each other in just a few minutes, they always said, "I love you" before they left. He didn't really know why. He just figured it was a sweet thing to do. Monica had once told him that part of the reason was just in case something bad happened, and they never got to say it again, wouldn't it be some comfort to know that they'd said it one last time? He had resisted the urge to laugh at that, one glance at her face told him she was serious, and he had grown used to it, and enjoyed the small, frequent reminder that he was the luckiest man alive to be able to love Monica and have her love him back. But despite the note, Chandler couldn't resist returning to the bedroom and giving her a loving kiss on her hairline and telling her aloud that he loved her.

Monica woke up shortly after Chandler left, and quickly realised that he was gone. She wondered why he'd left her alone in bed without waking her up, something he never normally did. Monica forced herself to get up out of the warm bed and got dressed. She idly wondered if maybe he was in the shower, and if he was, maybe she would join him. But when she left the bedroom, she discovered Chandler's note. She smiled, realising he probably wanted to make her breakfast in bed, and smiled even more when she read the P.S.

Obediently, she went back into the bedroom, and was just about to undress again, when the phone rang. She answered it, expecting to hear Joey's voice, asking if it was okay if he came over for breakfast (not that he normally rang, it was just that they had asked for some privacy since they had only got married yesterday), or Rachel wanting to bug her about the photos, or Ross wanting to congratulate them for the hundredth time. Or maybe even her mother calling to apologise for her father's behaviour at the reception (Jack Geller had got drunk and started calling everyone Garfield, and asking them to call him Punch), and to berate her on some minor detail concerning the wedding, or the reception, or the honeymoon, or the groom.

She wasn't expecting it to be the hospital, saying that Chandler had been in an accident. They wouldn't tell her how bad it was over the phone, but she could tell by the instruction to get down there as soon as possible that it was something serious. As the person from the hospital hung up, Monica sank down to her knees, still clutching the phone. She was crying hard. Chandler would be okay. He had to be. Chandler couldn't be seriously hurt. He couldn't. She needed him. She couldn't live without him. He couldn't be critically injured. The hospital was probably just being over cautious. Suddenly, she realised she was still holding the phone. In anger and frustration, she threw it across the room. Her hands tore at her hair; she didn't even attempt to wipe away the tears, which streamed down her cheeks, in an unstoppable torrent.

Joey chose that moment to walk in the door. He was whistling happily as he entered, but stopped instantly when he saw Monica crouching on the floor in tears. He hurried over and put his arms around her. She lent against his chest, not caring that she was probably scaring him by not offering any explanation for her tears. She just wished it were Chandler who was comforting her, not Joey. But if Chandler was here comforting her, she wouldn't be crying in the first place. Joey looked a little shocked, and didn't dare speak in case he upset her even more. So he just held her until she had calmed down a bit.

"You want me to call Rachel and Phoebe?" he asked quietly, thinking Monica would rather talk to them than him. He wondered if Monica and Chandler had had a fight, and she was upset because he had disappeared and they were due to leave for their honeymoon in just a few hours. Monica nodded miserably. 

Joey tried to get up to reach the phone, but Monica clung to him still. He gently prised her off him, and told Rachel to get here as quickly as she could, and to bring Phoebe, and Ross to if they could find him. When he had finished on the phone, he noticed that Monica had moved onto the couch, where she sat, hugging her knees, staring morosely at an empty space on the wall. Joey couldn't wait until the others got there.

When they did arrive, they were as shocked as he was. Ross looked ready to vomit with shock, not only at seeing his sister so upset, but also at the thought of what could have made her this upset. She still hadn't managed to tell them. Rachel hugged her and let her cry some more. When Monica had calmed down a little, all she said was that she had to go to the hospital.

"Why Mon, what's happened? Are you okay?" Ross asked worriedly.

"I'm fine," Monica said tearfully. That was the problem. She was fine, but Chandler was lying in hospital with god only knew what the matter with him. 

"Is it chandler?" Phoebe asked. Monica nodded tearfully. Joey yelped in shock. His best friend, in hospital. And it must be something serious; or else Monica wouldn't be so upset. 

"I'll call a cab," Rachel said quickly. She picked up the phone and did as she said, acting on auto pilot, knowing that Monica was obviously too upset to function properly. They were all upset, but Rachel could only imagine how upset Monica was. For a moment, she actually pictured what she would feel like if it was Ross, then mentally shook herself to get rid of the image, it was one she didn't want, and shouldn't even be thinking in the first place: she and Ross weren't together anymore.

In the cab on the way to the hospital, the five of them sat in a shocked silence. Monica cried quietly, and Joey stared blankly into space, wondering if Chandler would be okay. Ross had an arm around Rachel, without even realising it. Phoebe was muttering something that sounded like a prayer. When they got to the hospital it was Ross who asked for Chandler Bing. 

"Are you family?" the nurse asked.

"I'm his wife," Monica stuttered. "Is he okay?" She asked the question all of them were thinking, the question whose answer she dreaded.

"If you'd like to wait in there," the receptionist said gently, pointing to a comfortably furnished relatives room. She was obviously not going to tell them anymore.

"Please, I just need to know he's going to be okay," Monica said desperately.

"Just wait in there. A doctor will be along shortly, he'll tell you what's going on with Mr Bing," the receptionist promised easily.

"I just want to see him," Monica pleaded. But the receptionist was used to dealing with distressed relatives, and simply smiled and gestured towards the relatives' room. Rachel led Monica over to it and forced her to sit down on one of the squashy chairs that sat near the window.

None of them spoke. The only sound was that of Monica crying softly to herself. After a few minutes had gone by, a doctor came in. he looked about forty years old, with greying hair and glasses. He was a little overweight, but looked experienced and kind.

"Hello, Mrs Bing?" he asked looking around. As soon as he saw Monica, he guessed that this was Mrs Bing. Her tears alone showed him that, but also the desperate look of disbelief that he saw when she looked up at him. Her eyes plainly begged him to tell her that Chandler was okay. He sighed to himself. He wished he could, but like hundreds of other wives, she would be disappointed.

"Is he okay?" she asked straight away. The doctor smiled indulgently, but ignored her question.

"I'm doctor Sullivan," he introduced himself, "I've been treating your husband Mrs Bing." He ignored the rest of the group, although he knew they were hanging on his every word. "Did anyone tell you why your husband is in hospital?" he asked, hoping someone had, hoping he wouldn't have to tell the distraught woman in front of him what had happened. But she shook her head. He sighed again. "He was hit by an ambulance," he said shortly. Monica gasped in shock.

"An ambulance? Coming to this hospital?" she demanded, then shook her head. "Forget it, it doesn't matter. Is he gonna be okay? Is he even alive?" she asked despairingly. Ross put his arm around her and hugged her, but she hardly noticed. "Please, just tell me," she begged Dr Sullivan.

"Mr Bing sustained a serious head injury when he was hit by the car, as well as a fractured collar bone and a shattered pelvis, and a considerable amount of internal bleeding," he said gravely. 

"He's dead isn't he?" Phoebe asked suddenly. She was rewarded by a glare from Ross, and a look from rachel that asked why she was being so insensitive, which wasn't like Phoebe. Monica just burried her face in her hands; she didn't think she wanted to hear the answer.

"no, he's not dead," Dr Sullivan said. "But we don't think he's far off form being dead. If I were you I'd just be glad I got to say goodbye. You can see him in a few minutes, one at a time. He's unconsious, but that doesn't mean he can't hear you," he told them. His bleeper went off. "I have to go. When you're ready to see him, just tell one of the nurses, and you can go right in."

"I want to see him now," Monica said, standing up and wiping her tears away.

"Well, okay," the doctor said, a little taken aback. Its just through there, he said pointing to a pair of double doors.

"Thank you," Monica said, and made as if to go right away, but Ross pulled her back.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, nodding emphatically. She had to see him. Even if he was as much a mess as the doctor had said, even if he couldn't hear her or see her, she had to see him one last time. Before the others could protest anymore, she had gone. She paused slightly outside the doors to the room where Chandler was, but feeling the eyes of her brother and friends on her, only made her more determind.

Nervously she pushed open the door and slowly walked over to Chandler's bed. He was atatched to serveral huge machines that frightened her and made the man she adored look as small and vulnerable as a child. Monica found enough courage to sit down next to him and take his hand in hers. It was connected to a drip, but she ignored the horrible plastic tube and simply stroked his hand. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. His face was bruised but underneath the bruises she could see he was a deathly white. His skin felt unusually cold and clammy.

"I love you Chandler," she whispered, wanting him to hear it, even though she kenw he probably couldn't, and he would almost certainly never say the words to her ever again. She willed him to return from wherever he was now. "I need you so much Chandler, please don't leave me now. I miss you already, and you're not even dead yet. I can't believe you're going to die. And I can't believe I'm talking like its really going to happen. I guess I'm just in shock or something, because I can't imagine my life without you. I can't imagine living for the rest of my life, never seeing you, or holding you, or touching you, or kissing you, or making love to you. I can't believe it, and I don't want to believe it. I don't want to think that this is the last time I'll ever see you. And I hate that if it is, you're hooked up to all these machines, and if you can feel anything, its just pain. I hate that you're not here with me now, because then you would know exactly how I'm feeling, because you always do. I don't know how to put what I'm feeling into words, because words can't begin to describe such deep emotions as love, and I've never been very good at putting my feelings into words. Remember when I tried to propose? I messed that up." She paused, wondering if she should tell him. Then she thought, what the hell, he should know. "I told you that I couldn't do it because girls aren't good at proposing, but the real reason was that I wanted to hear you say the words. I never thought you'd do it as well as you did though, and I suddenly realised how much I didn't know about you. And although its only been seven months, I feel like I've learned so much about you since then, but its still not enough. I know we kept some things hidden from each other, and I wish to God we hadn't. but we did, and that's that, I guess. The past is the past, and there's no going back. so I guess all I can do is tell you that I love you." She started to stand up to leave, when she thought she felt him squeeze her hand, asking her silently to stay a little longer. "Does it hurt?" she asked him. "Does it hurt sweetie?" she imagined that he squeezed her hand again. "its okay darling. Its okay," she said, abruptly losing control and flinging herself at him. She rested her head on his motionless arm and sobbed. 

She was interrupted in her grief by Ross. He stuck his head round the door to make sure Monica was okay, and also to ask if joey could go in and see Chandler. Ross hated seeing his baby sister so upset, and gently helped her to her feet and led her out of the room. She wanted to stay with Chandler, but she was too miserable to fight Ross, so she let him take her back to the relatives' room. She watched as joey went into Chandler's room to take her place. 

Monica watched in silence as each one of her friends went in to see Joey in turn. Joey was the longest, but she supposed Chandler had been his best friend. When she thought about it, it was Chandler who held a lot of the group together. He was her best friend, Ross's best friend and Joey's best friend. He was the funny guy, who made smart-ass comments at his friends failings, but Monica knew, as they all knew, that Chandler was the type of guy who would be there when you needed him. But she needed him the most.

After all the others had been in to see him, Monica announced she wanted to see him again. The doctor said she would have to wait until after they had taken him for some tests, including brain scans. Monica sat impatiently in the relatives' room, fidgeting anxiously with the bracelet Chandler had given her for her birthday, and her wedding ring, and the locket which had belonged to Chandler's grandmother, but he had inherieted it and given it to her. they were the only jewelry she wore usually, and they all reminded her of Chandler.

After twenty minutes that dragged on forever, the doctor returned. He looked even more serious than last time, if it was at all possible. Monica instinctively rose to her feet when he came in.

"Is he okay?" she asked for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour or so.

"No, Mrs Bing, I'm afraid he isn't. We have the results of the brain scan here," Dr Sullivan said steadily, but Monica wouldn't let him finish.

"Will he survive? I don't care about anything else, if he's brain damaged or whatever, so long as he's alive, that's all that matters," Joey said.

"How can you say that? Would you want him to suffer for years, with no quality of life?" ross demanded, as usual making his views known to everyone else.

"ross!" Rachel reprimanded him gently. "We don't' know anything yet."

"He's going to die, isn't he?" Phoebe predicted miserably.

"Would you all just shut up!" Monica screamed. "You're all talking like he doesn't matter! Like Chandler is just some speciman or something! He's one of your best friends! And he's my husband! And I won't let you talk about him like that! He's not dead! He's not dying! He's not brain damaged! He's going to be just fine!" Monica screamed, although she didn't believe the words she was saying. She knew in her heart of hearts that Chandler was practically dead already, and she knew that if he wasn't, he was probably better off dead. But she hated that she felt like that, and she wouldn't give up on him, as she knew he wouldn't give up on her if he was in this situation, and she refused to let her friends give up on him either.

"Well, if you'll just let me explain," Dr sullivan interrupted, not agreeing with Monica, but not arguing with her either. He sensed that she was too worked up to listen to aguments. The best thing he could do was just to tell her, to tell all of them, the diagnosis straight away.

## To be continued…

_ _


	2. part 2

**Without You (part 2)**

** **

"Chandler has, as we feared sustained a serious amount of brain damage," Dr Sullivan said. Phoebe noticed that he had used 'Chandler' instead of 'Mr Bing', which she thought was a bad sign. Monica buried her face in her hands. "In fact he is brain stem dead."

"No!" Monica screamed. He couldn't be. Not Chandler. He couldn't be brain damaged. He couldn't. She needed him too much for him to be practically dead. Rachel hugged her, but Monica shook herself free. "I want to see him," she demanded. The doctor nodded calmly.

"Of course. I'll take you through straight away," Dr Sullivan said. Monica nodded and followed him into Chandler's room. Dr Sullivan nodded to the nurse who was adjusting one of the machines, and she left the room. The doctor went out behind her.

Monica went and sat down next to Chandler, holding his hand in both of hers. She leaned her head on his hand and waited for the tears to fall, but they didn't, they stayed burning her eyes. The pain she felt was too much for tears, just as it was too great for words.

"Chandler, I know you probably can't hear me, or understand what I'm saying, but I'm sorry that you're lying here like this. I would give anything in the world to be the one that got hit in the accident. Except I would never want to put you through what I'm going through right now. I wish you didn't have to be here. And I hate that the only thing keeping you alive is a bunch of machines. I don't want you to be dead in every way except that you're still breathing. Even though it's so, so hard for me to let you go. You should be dead Chandler. And that doesn't mean I want you to be dead, because you know that's not true, it's just that by rights, you should be dead. You'd be better off dead, instead of in limbo like this. And I don't know if you hung onto life so I wouldn't be alone, or if it was just all a cruel twist of fate. But I refuse to let you cling on any longer, Chandler," Monica said quietly. 

She lifted Chandler's hand and stroked it gently. She fingered the needle of the drip and wondered exactly what would happen if she pulled it out.

"I'm sorry Chandler. You may never forgive me for doing this, and I know I will never forgive myself, but, I dunno, right now it just seems like the only thing I can do. Keeping you like this isn't fair on either of us. But I just want you to know that the only reason I'm doing this is because I love you so much, and I can't stand seeing you like this, and knowing there's no future. I love you Chandler, I'll miss you every day for the rest of my life. Goodbye honey," she said, blinking to hold back the tears that threatened to fall at any minute. She pulled out the drip. 

Nothing happened except a light went on on one of the machines. Monica wondered briefly if dying hurt if you were brain stem dead already.

"Its okay sweetie, I'm here," she whispered, "I love you." Monica wanted it to be over quickly, for everyone's sake. And also she was a little afraid that the light would somehow send a message to the nurses' station that something was wrong. She kissed him softly on the lips, then reached over and turned of the life support machine. Immediately, a number of alarms went off, but she ignored them, and laid her head on his chest. He was still breathing, but only just, and it seemed to be costing him a lot of effort. She finally gave in to the tears and sobbed into his chest as it struggled to rise and fall.

Then he breathed one final breath. Monica waited for him to breathe in again, but he didn't. She lifted her head from his chest and studied his face closely. Despite all the bruises and tubes that were still attached to him, Chandler looked peaceful. She kissed his lips, then his forehead, then buried her face in his chest again and cried.

A team of doctors and nurses came in to see what was happening. When they saw Chandler was dead, and Monica lying hysterical on his chest, and the life support machine turned off, they guessed almost instantly what Monica had done. But they didn't challenge her about it, then or later.

Monica was allowed to stay with Chandler for a long while. She cried the whole time, and occasionally whispered to Chandler that she was sorry, and that she loved him.

A nurse came and told the others that chandler was dead, but hadn't mentioned that it looked like Monica had switched the life support machine off herself. The staff didn't want the others to think it was Monica's fault, or that she had done something unforgivable, when they supposed she must have had her reasons.

Monica was still there when Joey came in to see Chandler. He wanted to be alone with him to say goodbye, but he didn't want to ask Monica to leave. He stood awkwardly behind her for a few moments, then gently placed his hands on her back. She slowly raised her head and looked up at him.

"Sorry Joey, did you want to see Chandler?" she asked tearfully.He nodded gratefully.

"Thanks," he said.

"Goodbye sweetie," she whispered, dropping a light kiss on his forehead.

"Ross and the others are waiting for you," Joey told her. Monica nodded and left. "So Chandler," he began. Earlier on he'd had so much that he wanted to say to him, but now he couldn't remember any of it. He eventually just told Chandler that he would miss him, and that he'd never had a better roommate or a better friend. The others all went in one at a time to say goodbye as well, but none of them really knew what to say. Phoebe sang him a song about a lost button, which she claimed was a metaphor, because she hadn't had time to come up with a whole new song.

Again, once the others had said what they had to say to Chandler, Monica went back in. she didn't say anything this time, she just hugged him, desperately clinging to the hope that it was all a bad dream, that she would wake up, perhaps screaming or in tears, but Chandler would be there and he would comfort her and when she told him what she had been dreaming, he would laugh and tell her not to be so silly; he would never leave her. But she knew it wasn't a dream. She knew this was harsh reality where anyone, even her beloved Chandler, could die.

But although it was hard to accept that he was dead, the hardest part was knowing that it was her fault. She had believed at the time that she was acting for the best, but now that is was over, she wasn't so sure, after all, who had the right to decide who got to live and who had to die? Not the doctors and nurses with all their years of training. Not his wife, who loved him more than anything else in the world. She planned never to tell her friends what she had done. They wouldn't understand why she'd felt she had to do it. They would think she was being stupid and she shouldn't have just given up hope like that.

"But you understand, right sweetie?" she asked him. "You don't hate me, do you?" She realised she was talking to him as if she expected him to answer her, so she stopped talking and just held him instead. She hated the way he felt, stiff and lifeless, but she needed him so much that she couldn't not touch him.

She lost track of how long she stayed there with Chandler, but right then, time didn't seem to matter, just as it no longer mattered to Chandler, wherever he was. Monica had never really known what she believed happened to you when you died, but she now thought she liked the idea that Chandler was still around, as a spirit, or a guardian angel, or whatever. But she couldn't bear the thought of being without him forever.

Eventually, Monica dragged herself away and went back to her surviving friends. Ross hugged her and she leaned tiredly against his chest.

"I want to go home," she said like a child.

"Of course," Ross said soothingly. "But are you sure you want to go back to your apartment, with so many memories of Chandler?" Ross asked gently.

"That's why I want to go back there," was all Monica would say.

"Do you want us to stay with you?" Rachel asked when they got to Chandler and Monica's apartment.

"No thanks, I'll be okay," she said, trying to put on a brave face. None of them were fooled, but they could tell she didn't really want them around. Phoebe was absent-mindedly humming a song, but she paused to hug Monica tightly. Joey was the only one who didn't make a move to leave. He wanted to be with Monica, not only because he thought she needed someone with her, but also because he needed to be with someone himself.

"Call me if you change your mind," Rachel offered. "Joey, you coming?" she asked, turning to him. He shook his head slowly.

"No, I think I'll stay here a while, if that's okay with you Mon," he said.

"Sure," Monica shrugged. She was torn between wanting to be alone, and wanting someone to comfort her, as if she was a small child again.

Once Monica and Joey were alone, he crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes, until Joey slid an arm around her.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked gently.

"No," Monica said shortly. She bit her lip and tried hard not to cry. She felt guilty every time she cried; since it was all her fault he was dead.

"Well I feel awful, I know it must be like a hundred times worse for you. But it will get better. Over time the pain will ease," he promised. Monica smiled; it sounded like Joey had been watching a little too much daytime TV.

"How did you get so sympathetic all of a sudden?" Monica asked. He shrugged.

"Still a little of doctor Drake Ramoray I guess," he admitted, "You know you can talk to me any time, don't you?" Monica nodded, but didn't offer any of her feelings up. They sat quietly for a little while longer. Joey felt a lump forming in his throat, and he didn't want Monica to see him cry, in case she felt like she should be crying, since she was Chandler's wife, widow now, and if he (Joey) started crying, she might feel bad.

"Look Joey, I'm sorry. I appreciate you being here, really I do, but I just want to go to bed and try and forget about all this," Monica told him eventually.

"Sure, sure, I'll go back across the hall," he said. Monica smiled apologetically.

"Thanks. We can talk in the morning if you want," she offered hesitantly.

"Great. 'Night Mon," Joey said as he backed casually out of the door.

"'Night Joey," she responded dully. She had just realised that she would have to go to bed, in the room she had shared with Chandler every night for a year and a half and most night for a year before that. And even for the eight years or so before Chandler moved in, she'd always had Phoebe or Rachel in the next room. Now she was truly on her own. She walked into the bedroom and crumpled onto the bed, still wearing her clothes. But she hated being alone. She couldn't believe that just twenty-four hours earlier, Chandler had been in bed with her. And then he'd got up to make her breakfast in bed, and now he was dead. She closed her eyes and immediately saw Chandler's pale face as she killed him. Because no matter how good her intentions had been, that's what she had done. She had killed him. She had murdered her husband. She screamed and ran out of the bedroom. Monica flung herself on the couch and buried her face in a cushion and sobbed once more.

She didn't sleep at all that night. She just sat on the window seat for most of the night and stared blankly out at the New York City nighttime skyline. Her tears dried on her cheeks and she made no attempt sort out her make-up, which had been ruined, after she spent most of the day and night crying. Monica felt exhausted, mentally and physically. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, even though Chandler wasn't there to hold her safe in his arms. But she didn't dare close her eyes.

In the morning Ross, Rachel and Phoebe stayed away at first, afraid that Monica might be too upset to want to see them. Joey stayed away as well, but for slightly more complex reasons. He knew Monica wouldn't turn them away, but she wouldn't want them all there right away. But he also hated being in the apartment without Chandler there. It just wasn't the same.

Monica moped around the apartment all day. She wanted to go see Chandler again, but she wasn't sure if she'd be allowed. And besides, there was nothing she could do or say that would make everything okay again. She started to tidy up the apartment, then realised that to do so would be moving on, changing things, acepting Chandler's death, and she couldn't face doing that just yet. She went into the bedroom, where she sat for over and hour, not doing anything, or even thinking anything. She just stared into space.

The room reminded her so much of Chandler, and what it was like to hold him and kiss him, and just to be with him. She had never really understood just how big a part of her life he was. They had been a couple for two and a half years, friends for eight years, and had known each other long before that. But ever since London he had taken up such a big part of her heart that he had sort of become a part of her. She felt incomplete without him, and kept hearing sounds that made her look up expectantly, waiting for him to walk in. but he never did.

Two days after Chandler's death, Joey ventured over to make sure Monica was all right. No one had seen or heard from her in two days, which was understandable considering that she had just lost her husband. But what Joey couldn't understand was why she was shutting them out. He supposed she just needed time to be alone, but he wished there was something more he could do to help her.

"Hey Joey," Monica greeted him when he cautiously opened the front door.

"Hey, um, are you okay?" he asked, taking in a view of the apartment. Most people wouldn't have called it messy, perhaps 'lived in', but not messy. But Joey knew that by Monica's usual standards, it was a tip. He cursed himself for even thinking that Monica would care. Sure, she was a neat freak, but even she would put Chandler's death before cleaning her apartment.

"Define okay," she challenged him wearily.

"Right now, I'd say 'okay' is anything better than suicidal," Joey joked weakly. Monica didn't even crack a smile.

"Then I'm okay, but by normal standards, I'm definitely not," Monica said. Joey hugged her.

"I know," he said.

"I just miss him so much Joey. I can't sleep because I know he won't be there when I wake up. I can't clean up because I don't want to change anything. I can't even cry, because its all my fault!" she said angrily. 

"Don't be silly Mon. it's not your fault," he comforted her.

"You don't understand Joey. Its all my fault!" Monica insisted. She wanted to cry, but managed to stop herself.

"How the hell is it your fault?" he demanded, impatient, even though he knew he should be more sympathetic. Monica froze. She couldn't tell Joey what she had done, she couldn't. Chandler was Joey's best friend. He would never forgive her. Quickly she came up with a different reason of why it was her fault.

"He wouldn't have even been out if it wasn't for me. He was going to buy some things to make me breakfast in be," Monica said. That was true, but she knew the accident could have happened anytime.

"Mon, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life! How does that mean it's your fault? Monica, it was an accident, a horrible, unfair thing to happen, but it was just an accident," Joey exploded.

"Joey, I'm sorry okay. But please could you just leave me alone?" Moncia asked, biting her lip to stop herself saying something she'd regret.

"Yeah, maybe I should," Joey agreed coldly. He didn't want to get mad at her, but he couldn't help it when she was being stupid and irrational like this. Joey knew Monica was upset, but that didn't give her a right to be completely self absorbed. He was grieving too. He stormed out of the door, furious with himself and with Monica.

"Joey, I'm sorry," Monica shouted after himn, but he ignored her and just slammed the door behind her.

Joey must have told the others about Monica's behavior, because none of them came round that day, or the next, or the next. It was three days later, when chandler had been dead for five days, before Phoebe made up her mind to visit Monica. It was chandler's funeral tomorrow, and Phoebe thought Monica could use some support from her friends.

Monica was a mess when Phoebe arrived. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, she wore no make-up, and her clothes were crumpled. There were dark shadows under her eyes, which had a dead look in them. The apartment had progressed to the universal definition of messy. But there were no plates in the sink, or any sign of food. Phoebe supposed that even at her messiest, Monica didn't want to attract cockroaches.

"Oh Mon," Phoebe said softly and hugged her friend tightly. Monica's skinny body was limp in her arms, and Phoebe was sure she'd lost weight. She led her to the couch, where they both sat down. "Wow, this is worse than when you broke up with Richard," Phoebe observed.

"Yeah, well, I chose to break up with Richard. I would never have chosen for this to happen," Monica said, but felt a twinge of guilt, because although the accident itself hadn't been her fault, she had made the end a lot quicker, so in a way, it was her fault.

"Yeah, I guess its stupid to compare the two. Its just I haven't seen you unhappy since you broke up with Richard. I suppose because Chandler made you so happy," Phoebe said, then immediately regretted it, because Monica suddenly looked even more depressed. "Sorry," Phoebe said quickly.

"Its okay, you're right," Monica said, but didn't offer any of how she was feeling. Over the last few days, she had felt like she was alienated, in a way, from the rest of her friends. Keeping such a huge thing a secret from them didn't help matters much, because she knew they would never forgive her if they knew, but that didn't stop her constantly longing to tell them, to tell anyone. She was already sick of keeping it locked away inside her, and she couldn't imagine how she was going to be able to keep it a secret for the rest of her life.

Chandler's funeral had all been organised by his Mom. Nora had seen as soon as she flew in from London, where she had been promoting her latest book, that Monica was in no way up to doing anything, so she had completely taken over. Ross was especially surprised that Monica had allowed this, but he didn't dare bring it up with her. But right now, none of that mattered. It was Chandler's funeral, the only purpose of the day was to say goodbye to their friend.

Rachel had an arm around Monica in the car on the way to the church. Ross sat on Monica's other side in silent support. Phoebe and Joey were up front. Phoebe was driving. Joey had his eyes closed all the way. He didn't want to cry in front of the others. He wanted to be strong. But it was so hard. 

The service Nora had arranged was a quiet and simple one for family and close friends only. Chandler's dad had refrained from bringing any of his gay friends, at Nora's request. She herself had left her current toy boy back in England. A few of Chandler's friends were invited, but most of them weren't, because Chandler hadn't known the, very well, but they had all sent their condolences and best wishes to Chandler's family.

"Mon, you okay?" ross asked her in a whisper as they went into the church. Monica just gave him a look that said 'how can I be okay?', and Ross nodded and gave her arm a quick squeeze. 

"Come on Monica, we have to speak to the minister before the ceremony," Nora said, taking her arm. Monica blindly followed Nora away. She felt her friend's eyes on her, watching her every move carefully, as if they were afraid she might break, but couldn't be bothered to turn around and give them a quick smile of reassurance. she too a deep breath. She didn't feel up to this. She wasn't ready to say goodbye for the last time. Monica hated to admit it, but for almost the first time in her life, she felt completely out of control, and she hated it, especially being the control freak she normally was.

They filed into the church in silence and sat down. Phoebe was at the end, then joey, then Monica, then ross, then rachel. The minister began to speak about how sad it is when someone as young as Chandler was called back to be at God's side, but Monica hardly heard him. There were tears streaming down her face, and her whole body shook as she sobbed as quietly as she could. Joey tried to hug her, but for some reason, that pushed her over the edge. She shook off Joey's comforting touch and stood up. She pushed past ross and rachel and ran out of the church. The minister looked up as she left, and shot a questioning glance at nora, who nodded that he should continue. No-one followed Monica outside. They figured she wanted to be alone, but they also wanted to say goodbye to Chandler properly.

Moncia tripped on the steps leading out of the church and fell in a heap at the bottom. She wasn't hurt, but she just sat there, unable to move, crying hysterically, until she head people starting to come back out. She didn't want to have to face everyone yet, so she got up and ran off again. She went round to the side of the church. Everyone else must have gone round the other side on the footpath to the graveyard, because she didn't see any of them.

When she was sure they were all watching the burial, Monica crept around to the corner, so she could watch them bury her husband. Her tears were silent now, and she made a weak attempt to wipe them away. Most of the people at the funeral were crying, but she believed none of them felt as bad as she did. She actually felt a physical pain every time she remembered that she would never have Chandler to hold in her arms ever again. And that pain turned into torture whenever she reminded herself that it was all her fault. She could have chosen to let him live on as a 'vegetable' for years, but she knew deep down, as she had known then, that this was best for Chandler. He would have wanted this, even though he would never have told her, he would have made sure she kept hoping, but she knew that what he would really have wanted but not said, was to make it quick. He had often said she could read his mind, and in a way he was right. She had known what he would have wanted, and she had made sure he got what he wanted, however much suffering it had caused her. Chandler wouldn't hate her. that's what she kept telling herself over and over again, that he wouldn't hate her, he would forgive her. it was the only thing that kept her going at night, when she couldn't sleep and in the daytime, when her friends ignored her. she was lonely now, but she had no way to know how much they'd hate her and how much worse she would feel if they ever found out what she had done.

_To be continued…_


	3. Part 3

Without You (part 3)

It was two weeks since Chandler's funeral. Monica came home and slung her coat on the chair, not caring that it disrupted her neat, orderly kitchen. She crossed the apartment and sank onto the couch. She put a cushion over her face and screamed. She couldn't believe it. Monica had just been to the doctor's. She hadn't slept properly since Chandler died, and she was feeling depressed, and physically sick. She was expecting him to prescribe some sleeping pills (over the counter ones hadn't worked) or maybe anti-depressants, but she had not expected him to tell her she was pregnant. 

When she thought about it, she supposed that she had known at the back of her mind for over a week, but she had blamed the stress of Chandler's death for her symptoms because she wasn't sure she wanted to be pregnant. A month ago, she would have welcomed the news; she would have been screaming with excitement and would want to be running around shouting out to anyone who would listen that she and Chandler were having a baby. But that was the problem. She and Chandler were having a baby, but he wasn't there to share her joy, and that ruined it.

She didn't know what she was going to do. Oh, of course, she would keep the baby. This was what she had wanted for the last thirty years, and the fact that it was Chandler's baby made it all the more special and wonderful to her. But how would she cope without Chandler at her side? And how would she tell the others? They'd be happy for her, but worried as well, because they had guessed some of what she was going through, with the not sleeping, and she was only eating when she was with them, although they didn't know that. It wasn't a big deal to her, just that she didn't see the point of preparing anything if she was the only one around. But now she would have to eat, because the baby would suffer if she didn't. Monica made up her mind, then and there that she would do anything, anything in the world, to keep this baby safe. It was Chandler's baby, and the final gift he had given her.

A week after she found out she was pregnant, Monica invited everyone round for dinner. They took this as a sign she was improving, and all dressed up to celebrate, especially Rachel, who would use any excuse. Monica spent most of the afternoon cooking, and already felt tired when they arrived, but she knew she would get over it, since she probably wouldn't get more than a couple of hours sleep that night.

They were all sitting round the table eating before Monica made her announcement. She had wanted to wait until later, but Ross had already said he had to finish some work tonight, and she thought the others might leave early as well. All five of them had noticed the gap where Chandler should have been, although they'd all been too polite to comment on it.

"What?" Ross exclaimed when she told them. Joey almost choked. Phoebe and Rachel exchanged looks that Monica couldn't read.

"I'm pregnant," Monica repeated.

"Its Chandler's, right?" Rachel asked. Monica gasped in shock that her best friend could think for a second that she would be seeing someone else so soon after Chandler's death, never mind be having another man's baby.

"Of course it is!" Joey defended her. Monica nodded.

"How can you be pregnant? Chandler's dead!" Ross pointed out stupidly.

"I think its pretty obvious that I got pregnant before he died," Monica said, angry at having to defend herself to her friends. 

"That's great Mon," Phoebe said in a funny voice, letting Monica know she didn't really mean it.

"What are you going to do?" Rachel asked. Monica looked at her, stunned.

"What do you think? I'm going to keep it of course! This is Chandler's baby! I could never kill it!" she shouted. 

"Mon, I'm not sure you're really in the right state of mind to care for a baby right now," Ross said. Monica just stared at him. He was her brother. How could he say that? She heard Joey gasp from his place next to her.

"Are you saying I'm incapable of looking after my child, Chandler's child?" she demanded in a cold voice.

"No! I'm just saying that maybe now isn't the best time for you to be starting a family," Ross said weakly.

"You know as well as I do that this is my last chance. I will never be able to have another chance to have a baby with my husband, how can you say I should give up that chance?" she shouted at her brother. He shrugged and muttered something.

"What Ross is trying to say is," Rachel began, but Monica cut her off.

"What? What is Ross trying to say?" she demanded. Rachel was silent. "I don't know why I'm even bothering to defend myself to you guys! You're supposed to be my friends! And yet you're saying I'm insane or something! You have no idea what I'm going through right now! And you have no right to try and tell me what to do!" Monica screamed. "Now get out! Get out of my apartment! Get out! Get out! Get out!"

Silently, Ross, Rachel and Phoebe stood up and left. Joey lingered after them. He tried to hug Monica but she shook him off. When he tried a second time, she gave in and sank into his arms so he was practically holding her up.

"Why?" she asked Joey quietly, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "Why can't they be happy for me?"

"I don't know," Joey replied. "Maybe they're just shocked. Just give them some time."

"Give them time! Who's husband just died? Who's pregnant? Why on earth should I give them time?" she said angrily, but she suddenly felt all her anger drain away, leaving only hurt that her friends would let her down so badly, and the constant ache of grief that never went away. Joey didn't answer, he just held her tightly, feeling his shirt get damp with her tears as she cried against him.

Joey didn't leave that night; he stayed in the spare bedroom because Monica said she was sick of being alone in the apartment all the time. She didn't expect him to stay up with her, but she thought it would be a comfort just to know she wasn't alone.

By three am Monica had given up trying to sleep. She went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of hot chocolate, then paced around the apartment as she drank it. She was even more restless than usual, and couldn't put the fight with the others out of her mind. She kept going over what everyone had said, even though it hurt a little more each time she thought about it.

She reluctantly went back to bed, if only so as not to wake Joey. In bed, she lay flat on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She hated being here, and wanted for the first time ever, to move. At first, she had been glad of the apartment and all its memories, but now they haunted her. As she tried in vain to get some sleep, they flitted through her mind like brief dreams that faded almost before she had placed them. Mostly they were silly little things, that she had thought she'd forgotten, like the first time he made her breakfast in bed, the first time she cooked him a romantic meal, the time they'd tried to video tape themselves having sex, but others were things that she knew she'd never forget. These included that night in London, the night after they moved in together, Vegas, when he proposed, and of course, their wedding itself. 

For a moment, she forgot that Chandler was dead and rolled over onto his side, as she used to do if she couldn't sleep, to see if he was still awake. If he was, they'd talk or make love, if he was asleep, she would just hug him, and that usually made her fall asleep, but when she touched only the cold sheet (she still slept over on her side, even though Chandler's side was empty) she remembered that he was dead and whimpered into the pillow. She threw off the bed covers and rushed out of the room, with her hand over her mouth to stop herself screaming. Monica lay on the couch and sobbed into the cushions, missing Chandler more than ever, praying for sleep, knowing it wouldn't come, trying to be quiet so Joey at least could sleep, resenting Joey for being able to sleep so peacefully. 

"Mon, you okay?" Joey asked tentatively from the doorway of the spare bedroom. He had heard a noise, and come to 'check it out', when he had seen Monica crying on the couch. She didn't answer, so he didn't' ask the question again, figuring that she'd need some time to herself. "I'm just in there if you need to talk," he said. "Don't worry about waking me up, I don't care," he said kindly.

"Thanks Joey," Monica mumbled as he retreated.

She gave up trying to sleep for real this time, and started tidying the apartment. She cleared away the empty glasses and scraped away the leftovers of their group dinner. It was funny, but it seemed much longer ago than just a few hours. She didn't think about what she was doing, her thoughts were still engrossed in remembering the hurt of her friends' betrayal. She still couldn't believe how insensitive they had been.

In the morning when Joey emerged at about ten o'clock, Monica had completely cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, for the first time since Chandler's death. At about nine o'clock she had started baking cookies. Joey helped himself to a batch fresh from the oven, instead of breakfast. Monica didn't yell at him, as he would have expected, so he hung around to taste the rest.

When Phoebe came over at about five o'clock that evening to apologise for the night before, Monica was still baking, and Joey was still eating. Phoebe sampled the latest batch of cookies and smiled appreciatively.

"Delicious," she commented.

"Thanks," Monica said. She smiled happily. There was flour on her nose and a smear of butter on her cheek and chocolate on her shirt.

"Listen Mon, about last night, I'm sorry. I guess I was just a little shocked. But really, this is great! It's a wonderful chance for you to have a little piece of Chandler back in your life. And I'm really happy for you," Phoebe said seriously. She titled her head up as if she was talking to the ceiling. "Both of you!" she shouted up. Joey grinned.

"Thanks," Monica said, "Chandler says thanks too," she smiled. "You want another cookie or ten?" she offered. "I think I made too many."

"Thank you," Phoebe said, taking another. "Maybe you should give Ross and Rachel some too." Monica tensed immediately. She knew Ross. He thought he was right about her being mentally unstable or whatever the hell he thought, and it was almost impossible to ever convince Ross that he was wrong.

"No," she said quietly, but firmly. Phoebe realised how much Monica had been hurt by their comments, so she decided not to pursue the subject. Now was obviously not the time.

Over the next week or so, the group split into two groups. There was Monica, Joey and Phoebe, in a way, against, Ross and Rachel. Phoebe and Rachel were still friends and they kept trying to bridge the growing gap. But Ross and Monica were equally stubborn and equally determined, and they each refused to apologise to the other. Monica insisted she had nothing to apologise for. Ross just refused for the sake of pride. Joey was amazed at how stupid Ross was being, and because his own principles about his friends were so strong, he sided with Monica. The only reason Rachel refused to give in was that she felt sorry for Ross, with everyone else hating him.

Monica still wasn't sleeping well. She lay awake most nights, desperately trying to keep the thoughts of Chandler out of her mind, because they made her cry whenever she remembered them. Since that first night, Joey kept offering to stay in the spare room, but Monica always said there was no need. She didn't want her friends to know how badly Chandler's death had affected her.

Monica kept putting off telling her parents. But when she was three and a half months pregnant, Phoebe finally persuaded her that she couldn't wait any longer. Monica had wanted someone to come with her, but Joey had an audition and Phoebe had a massage client. Monica hadn't spoken to either of her parents since a few weeks before Chandler died, but she figured Ross would have told them.

She hadn't even had a chance to ring the doorbell when her mother opened the door. Jack was close behind her. Judy Geller grabbed Monica and hugged her tightly, then pushed her away a little and shook her slightly.

"Why didn't you call? We were so worried about you!" Judy said. Jack rescued Monica from Judy's grasp and hugged her.

"How's my little Harmonica?" he asked, using her childhood nickname, he also stroked her hair, as he used to do when she was little.

"Ross told us about Chandler," Judy interrupted, not giving Monica a chance to answer her father.

"We're so sorry," Jack chipped in sympathetically.

"What are you going to do about the baby?" Judy demanded. Monica was shocked at her tone.

"So Ross told you about that too, did he?" she asked coldly,

"Of course he did! He's responsible!" she said, making it sound like Monica wasn't.

"So am I!" Monica defended herself. "Just because I don't tell tales on Ross when I'm thirty years old doesn't mean I'm not responsible!"

"When it comes to something like this it does!" Judy argued. Monica sighed she should have known her mother would never say anything bad about her precious Ross. "How could you not tell us you were pregnant?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this! Boy was I wrong!" she muttered sarcastically.

"Monica! This is a big deal!" Jack said. She felt like he was siding with Judy against her, and it was too much for her.

"Mom, I don't know what Ross has told you, but I'm keeping this baby. No matter what you guys, or Ross, or anyone else says," Monica insisted.

"Sweetheart, we're not saying you shouldn't keep the baby. We just think maybe you should get some counselling or something," Jack suggested gently.

"Dad, I don't need counselling. I'm fine," Monica told them, but her voice had lost its strength, she just felt tired, let down and miserable. "Look, I'm gonna go home. Give me a call when you decide to act like real parents," she said bitterly.

"Sweetheart!" jack called after her as Monica turned and walked wearily down her parents driveway and ignored her Dad's efforts to make her turn back.

When she got back home, Monica half fell onto the couch and closed her eyes. She waited for the tears to come, but none did. She had cried too much since Chandler died to cry about her parents. She was used to it. One more episode like this wasn't enough to reduce her to tears anymore. She supposed she had grown up. But if this was what it felt like to grow up, she would rather not. In a way, she just felt empty, as if every time she cried, a little of her soul was dissolved by her tears, and now she had cried it all away

She lay there for a long time, but she didn't cry and she didn't sleep. She tried hard not to even think. Joey was out on a date, and Monica knew he probably wouldn't come over. Phoebe might, but the lights were off, so she would probably think no one was home.

The last time she had felt this bad about her parents was in London, and she'd had Chandler to 'comfort' her then. But now she had no one. Monica stroked her stomach. The baby was the only thing she had left now. And even that couldn't bring her much pleasure when it divided the group and made her parents hate her.

Monica knew she must have fallen asleep, because she woke up in her bedroom, and had no recollection of getting up from the couch and going into her room. She changed her clothes and went out into the living room. The apartment was empty, but that didn't mean that someone hadn't been there earlier.

She didn't make herself any breakfast; she wasn't hungry, even though she hadn't eaten for twenty-four hours or so. Monica never knew what to do with herself anymore. She was only working two days a week in the restaurant now, and she didn't like to ask Joey and Phoebe to come round, in case they felt like they had no choice. And she still wasn't speaking to Ross and Rachel.

At least, she thought she wasn't speaking to them, because just then, Rachel came in. she looked like she hadn't really expected Monica to be there, or not awake anyway.

"Hi," she mumbled awkwardly.

"Hey," Monica replied. They wouldn't look at each other, and there was an uncomfortable silence.

"Mon, I'm sorry," Rachel said suddenly. "This whole thing has gone on far too long. And its all your stupid brother's fault!"

"Refusing to take any of the blame yourself, as usual," Monica remarked. 

"I guess that's fair," Rachel said through clenched teeth, biting her tongue to stop the bitchy comments that sprang to it.

"Yes it is. Rach, you're supposed to be my best friend, yet you sided against me with Ross, your ex-boyfriend," Monica said bitterly.

"I know, I know, I'm so sorry Monica, really I am. But everyone hated Ross, and I guess I felt sorry for him. But I know I hurt you and I'm sorry," Rachel said seriously.

"You expect me to forgive you for months of betrayal, just like that?" Monica asked, snapping her fingers as she said 'that'.

"No," Rachel admitted. "But come on, we've been friends too long to let this get in the way."

"Rachel, this isn't a little thing. It's a huge, great big thing. You and Ross thought I wasn't capable of having a baby, that I was unstable, or God knows what!" Monica argued.

"I know," Rachel whined, "But can't we please put it behind us?" Monica sighed.

"Fine," she agreed sulkily. Rachel grinned and hugged her, but Monica remained stiff and unresponsive.

Rachel stayed and tried to keep the conversation going for a while longer, but Monica refused to let things go back to normal right away. They were talking again, which she was relieved about, but there was still bitterness between them that would take more than one morning of gossip to rectify.

Ross and Rachel were still friends, but over the next month they slowly grew apart, as Rachel tried to worm herself into the now very close group of Monica, Joey and Phoebe. But right now, Rachel was kind of in the middle, not really belonging to either side.

After the initial shock of Monica finally standing up to them, Jack and Judy Geller were more supportive. Although they did offer to adopt their grandchild, supposedly to save Monica the bother. She was so offended by that, she was ready to disown her parents, but Joey and the others convinced her that by doing that, she would be giving them exactly what they wanted. Ross even called and left a message saying that she should seriously consider their parents offer, so she could get on with her life and forget about Chandler.

When Monica came home and heard that message on her answer machine, she was furious. Both with her parents for spreading something like that, and with Ross for believing it. She instinctively moved her hand over her slightly rounded stomach.

She marched over to Ross's apartment and hammered on his door. He answered it, armed with a child's water pistol; obviously thinking it was the kids in his building. When he saw it was Monica he frowned.

"Put that stupid thing down," she snapped angrily. Sheepishly, Ross did so. "I got your message," she announced icily.

Ross had the gall to ask: "Which message?" Monica was so shocked that she slapped him without even thinking about it. Ross held his hand to his cheek where she had hit him and stared at her like he couldn't believe what she had just done. It was an expression that mirrored Monica's mind. Had she really just hit her big brother? "I'm sorry Ross," she said finally. "I'm sorry, but I just couldn't believe that you agreed with Mom when she saying I can't look after my own child! How would you have felt if she offered to adopt Ben so you could forget about Carol?"

Ross looked at his feet. "I can't imagine," he muttered.

"You always used to side with me when they started having a go at me. Only now you're agreeing with them," she continued.

"Mon," Ross began, but Monica interrupted him, refusing to give him a chance to explain.

"And how could you say I should forget about Chandler? Ross, he's your best friend! You know how much I loved him, how much I still love him. Don't ask me to forget about him because I can't. I will never forget about him, I wouldn't want to. He was my husband for God's sake!"

"Mon, I'm sorry. But I do think Mom's right. You're so stressed and upset about Chandler that maybe looking after a baby isn't what you need right now," Ross said, trying to sound reasonable.

"I can't forget about him Ross," she said in a much weaker voice.

"I know, that was a dumb thing to say," Ross grudgingly admitted.

"Yeah" Monica agreed.

"But you really wouldn't believe all the shit Mom's been telling me about how unstable you are, how you talk to Chandler and won't accept that he's dead. She told me you expect this baby to be exactly like Chandler, that you'll hate it if its not," Ross said. Monica gasped; shocked at the lies her Mom had been spreading about her.

"Ross, that's bullshit! You know what Mom's like when it comes to taking any opportunity to pick on me!" Monica reminded him. Ross looked down and scuffed the toe of his smart black shoes, like a naughty school kid.

"Yeah, I guess. But I thought at least some of it was true, so it made sense that the rest would be true as well," Ross explained.

"The best way to make someone believe a lie is to sandwich it between two truths," Monica quoted.

"Yeah, I s'pose you're right," Ross mumbled.

"We haven't spoken for four months. You just made up your mind when I first told you, and because we haven't talked since then, you've just held to that stupid decision and now you won't change it, even though you know you're wrong," Monica exclaimed, frustrated. Ross didn't say anything; he knew she was right. Monica stayed silent, waiting hopefully for an apology she knew wouldn't come. Ross was too proud to accept that he should be sorry for the things he had said the night Monica announced she was pregnant.

"Sorry about the message. I suppose I shouldn't believe everything Mom tells me, huh?" Ross admitted. Monica sighed. She knew it was the closest thing to an apology she would get out of him.

Monica didn't want to linger at Ross's apartment; there was no reason to stay. It had only been four months, but she doubted they would ever be as close as they once had been. She went back to her apartment, which, unusually, was empty. A note by the phone in Phoebe's handwriting said her boss had called, asking if she could work a couple of extra days at the restaurant next week. She didn't mind working extra; it took her mind off Chandler, and the baby. Suddenly, Monica felt really tired. Confronting Ross had exhausted her, but she was glad she had done it. She lay down on the couch, her hand resting on her stomach, as if to protect her unborn baby. She promised herself she would only take a nap, but the pillow was so soft, and she hadn't slept properly for five months, so she fell deeply asleep.

_To Be Continued…_

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